


Where No Man Is Troubled By the Sea

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Black Sails
Genre: AU, Books, Coffee Shop, Cute, Fluffy, I am still bad at summeries, I suck at titles, M/M, Past Captain Flint/John Silver - Mentioned, Silver can cook this time, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Yes I swiped the title from the Odyssey, and is a massive massive shit, bonding over literature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: Running late for a new assignment, James discovers his normal coffee shop is closed, so instead he is forced to find an alternative, and much more along the way.In which James Flint is a lawyer, Thomas Hamilton is a writer, and they bond over books one day at the 'Colonial Dawn Coffee Shoppe and Bakery', in London.





	Where No Man Is Troubled By the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelastatlantean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelastatlantean/gifts).



> This is an early birthday gift for my sister thelastatlantean, who went 'Aww, shame,' when I said last night I wasn't writing another coffee shop AU. 7000 words later, here we are. *sigh* Happy Birthday sis!

Switching coffee shops was really not on James Flint's agenda today. He was late as it was, the Central Line had been shut between Baker Street and Kings Cross, meaning he had to take the Bakerloo down to Oxford Circus, change to the Victoria Line, and finally catch the Northern out to the London Bridge stop. Then to step out onto the street and find that his normal coffee shop was closed, he had been ready to rip his hair out, until he spotted another shop down the street.

Pushing through the door of the _Colonial Dawn Coffee Shoppe and Bakery_ , James groaned at the long line. Glancing at his watch he allowed himself five minutes to reach the counter, before he would have to give up and forgo coffee before his meeting. Not a prospect he was looking forward to when he was meeting with Edward Teach and Woodes Rogers, the first of what promised to be many, many long days.

“What can I get you?” the man behind the counter asked four and a half minutes later, a seemingly genuine smile on his face as he waited for James' order.

“The largest, blackest coffee you can manage, please,” James said, reaching for his wallet. The man chuckled as he tapped a button on the till and called the order over his shoulder to the redheaded woman making the coffee.

“Three pounds, twenty,” he said, turning back to James, who handed over a five-pound note. “Busy morning?”

James nodded, accepting his change and tossing it in the tip jar. “Big meeting, and I'm already risking being late. The lines are down between Baker Street and Kings Cross. Had to go around to catch the Northern.”

The other man flinched and nodded, accepting the large coffee from the redhead and pressing a lid on before handing it across the counter to James. “Good luck!” he called as James hurried out of the shop and James raised the cup in thanks as he all but ran across the street to the offices of Teach Enterprises.

He nodded to Edward's secretary, Abigail, as he hurried into the office, wanting to sigh deeply when the sounds of shouting reached his ears. It seems Woodes Rogers had already arrived and was making his displeasure known.

“Flint! Tell this motherfucker he can't have my damned company!” Teach shouted as soon as he saw James slipping into the room. James took a breath and set down his briefcase and coffee, which he still hadn't had a chance to even take a sip of.

“Edward, I agreed to arbitrate this conflict on the condition that it was done with some civility,” he ground out, already feeling a headache coming on.

“Civility,” Teach scoffed. “Tell that to this fucker who's trying to steal everything I built out from under me.”

“Built, now isn't that a laugh, I seem to remember you staged a hostile takeover of Nassau Industries last year. You didn't build a fucking thing, you stole it!” Rogers shouted and Teach roared.

James sighed, sticking his head out the door. “Abigail?” he said as calmly as possible and Abigail, the only woman who had ever been able to put up with Teach for more than a few months, glanced up and nodded.

“I already called Billy, he's on his way up with DeGroot,” she smiled sympathetically.

“Thank you,” James nodded, returning to the office and hoping the two security men arrived fast, or he may be dealing with testifying in a murder trial.

By the time the two men were separated, Billy and his six foot six bulk hovering next to Teach and DeGroot standing close to Rogers, James had his notebook and the various papers regarding the company merger laid out and he wanted nothing more than to shoot one or both of the men in front of him, himself.

“Now, can we get started?” he ground out, looking from one to the other. They glared at each other a moment longer before Teach nodded, beginning to outline just what he wanted to acquire in the merger and what he didn't, and what he wouldn't allow Rogers to acquire, which seemed to be pretty much anything. At all. Already the deal was beginning to look like another takeover move.

James tuned them out when they started shouting again, in favor of having a drink of his coffee. His eyes widened immediately when he took a sip and he realized in an instant he would never be going back to his previous coffee shop. It was the best coffee he'd ever had in his life and suddenly he felt like he could accomplish anything. At the feeling, James eyed the cup suspiciously for a moment before shrugging and paying attention to Teach and Rogers again. If it got him through this meeting, he really didn't care if it held a potentially lethal amount of caffeine that was now pouring through his veins.

\- : - : -

“Good morning!” the man behind the counter said cheerfully. “How was your meeting yesterday? Same order?”

James blinked. “You remember?”

“Jack remembers everyone who comes in here,” the redhead said from behind the man, who rolled his eyes.

“Jack Rackham, owner and proprietor,” he said, holding out his hand. “Please excuse Anne, she got up on the wrong side of the bed the day she was born. Ow,” he muttered when Anne trod on his foot without even looking at him.

“James Flint,” James grinned, shaking Jack's hand. “I think your coffee was the only reason I even survived the meeting, to be perfectly honest.”

“That bad, eh?” Jack asked, reaching in the case for a muffin and wrapping it in takeaway bag for the woman who was just receiving her coffee from Anne.

“Have you ever met Edward Teach?” James chuckled, handing Jack a five pound note for his coffee.

“Actually, I have,” Jack grimaced, casting his eyes across the room. James turned to see what Jack was looking at and his eyes widened. Clearing a table by the window was none other than Charles Vane, Edward Teach's only son. A son who hated him so much, he'd kept his mother's name and then disappeared somewhere in Europe two years before, or at least so said the tabloids.

“I thought he was somewhere in Bulgaria,” James said, shocked. “Not right across the street.”

“Charles likes to live dangerously,” Jack shrugged, handing James his change.

“Well, hopefully my business with Teach will be done sooner rather than later,” James sighed, thinking of sitting in another day of meetings and wanting nothing more than to turn around and go home and back to bed.

“What is it you do, exactly?” Jack asked, leaning on the counter, his face curious. James glanced behind him and saw there was no one else in line.

“I settle disputes. Legal, usually, sometimes not. Woodes Rogers is going after Teach and his company after Teach acquired Nassau Industries, which Rogers wanted to get his hands on. It supposed to be a merger, but they're both trying to stage hostile takeovers of each other's company. It's not going well,” he grimaced.

“Which side hired you?” Jack wondered, accepting the freshly brewed coffee from Anne and handing it to James.

“Teach's Vice President brought me in.”

“Ah, yes, Ben Hornigold,” Jack nodded, surprising James again.

“You seem to know quite a bit about it,” he said with a raised eyebrow. Jack shrugged.

“Charles and I have been friends for a long time,” he said. “There have been many nights when I've listened to him rant on about his father and the company over drinks.”

“Hmm,” James said, glancing over at Charles Vane again. “Well, once more unto the breach,” he said, raising his cup to Jack, who chuckled and waved as James left the cafe.

\- : - : -

A new pattern developed for James over the next two weeks and he found himself getting up a little earlier to get to the cafe, where he'd started having breakfast when he discovered they served a small range of food, which included omelets, a personal favorite. After the last round of early morning arguments, he had put his foot down and said that he wouldn't be coming in until ten anymore, and if they wanted to start the shouting without him, they were welcome to get it over with for the day before he arrived. At a hundred and twenty pounds an hour, he could afford to lose a little bit of money.

“Excuse me,” a voice startled James and he looked up, breath catching suddenly at the sight of the man standing in front of his table, looking a bit abashed. “I noticed you were reading The Odyssey,” the man said. “It's one of my favorites. Do you read a lot?”

James nodded, closing the book around his finger. “It's one of my favorites as well,” he said. “This is probably the eighth or ninth time I've read it since college.”

“Have you ever read The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius?” the man asked and James chuckled, waving a hand at the empty chair across from him.

“Please, have a seat. I haven't read it yet, but I would like to one day. This is a comfort read, it helps me not want to murder my clients at work,” he grinned as the other man sat.

“You must have a terrible job,” he said with a smile and James had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep his mind on the topic and not lose all focus in the deep blue pools of the other man’s eyes.

“It has its moments,” James shrugged, shaking himself a little. “Working with Teach Enterprises is not one of them,” he said, pointedly glaring at the building across the street. The other man chuckled and held out his hand.

“My name is Thomas,” he said. “Thomas Hamilton. I'm a writer. I live in coffee shops,” he said as James gripped his hand, feeling his skin tingling as he did.

“James Flint,” he said in return. “Dispute arbitrator, which I suppose is a fancy term for lawyer.”

“Nice to meet you,” Thomas said with a small smile, which James returned. “Did you know this cafe holds a book club every other Thursday?”

James shook his head. “I honestly only started coming here because my regular shop was closed for renovation. I stayed for the coffee,” he grinned and Thomas laughed lightly. James' stomach fluttered at the sound.

“It is addictive, isn't it? I still can't get Jack to give up his secret,” Thomas said lightly, his eyes never leaving James.

James opened his mouth to ask if Thomas had ever published anything when his phone beeped. Glancing down at it he sighed, wanting to smash the phone for even showing him a text from Hornigold, telling him to get to the office right away or Teach and Rogers were going to scrap the whole deal.

“I'm sorry, I have to go,” James said as he rose and pulled his jacket on.

“Oh, no, I'm sorry I bothered you,” Thomas said, standing and rubbing the back of his head. “I'm afraid I don't have much will power around books.”

“I don't mind,” James said. “It's rare I find someone who's enjoys them as much as I do,” he smiled and Thomas nodded.

“I'm here most mornings,” Thomas said and James could tell he was trying to keep his voice light and failing miserably.

“Thanks to Teach and his temper, for the foreseeable future, so am I,” James grinned before he downed the rest of his coffee and grabbed his briefcase. “See you around,” he said as he hurried out of the door and Thomas waved before glancing down and noticed that James had left The Odyssey lying on the table. He picked it up and glanced inside the cover, looking for a way to contact the books owner.

_James -_

_I realize that you already have three copies of this book, but now you can't say I never got you a birthday present._

_John_

Thomas chuckled and tucked the book into his bag, fully intending to return it the next time he saw James.

\- : - :-

By the time the meetings finished for the day it was after eight and James was exhausted. He barely had the energy to make it off the tube when he reached his stop. Today had been the worst yet and to top it all off, he'd realized halfway through the day that he'd left his book at the coffee shop that morning. He half hoped Jack had held onto it for him, while the other half of him hoped that Thomas had picked it up and might use it as an excuse to talk to him again.

James shook himself out of his thoughts when his phone rang and he glanced at the caller ID, seeing his best friend's face grinning back at him and he groaned.

“What?” James nearly snapped into his phone. On the other end of the line he heard John chuckle.

“ _That bad?”_

James sighed, leaning against the back of the elevator as it climbed to his floor. “I'm sorry, it's been a horrible few days, John.”

“ _I'm surprised London is still standing,”_ John joked.

“It won't be much longer if I can't settle this soon,” James muttered as the elevator came to a halt and he slipped through the doors as soon as they opened, heading for his flat, keys in hand.

“ _Are you far from your flat?”_

James paused, suddenly suspicious. “Why do you ask?”

“ _No reason,”_ John said airily and James narrowed his eyes.

“Are you in my flat, you wanker?”

“Now, James, don't be rude. I cooked,” John said as he appeared, pulling open the door to James' flat and grinning out at him as he ended the call.

“I don't know why I let you have a key,” James said, rolling his eyes as he entered his flat, bumping his shoulder into John as he passed on purpose, causing the other man to chuckle.

“Because your life is empty without me?” John called as James slammed his bedroom door and let his head thump back against the door.

He didn't really mind that John had snuck into his flat, again, to cook for him. John's food was always an adventure, as well it should be since he was one of the best chefs in all of London, but James was tired. He still had at least three weeks ahead of him with this settlement, and that was provided Teach and Rogers didn't try to kill each other again at any time during the meetings. The bigger source of James' annoyance was that he had wanted to come home and sleep.

Sighing, he tugged off his tie, ran his hands through his hair and toed off his shoes. The rest of his clothes followed quickly and he relaxed somewhat when he pulled on a pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt. He plucked at the design on the front and shrugged as he left his room to find the source of the wonderful smells he'd only just noticed.

“Is that my shirt?” John asked, squinting one eye at James as he appeared in the kitchen.

“It hasn't been your shirt in about twelve years,” James muttered, looking in the fridge for a bottle of wine.

“You know when you break up with someone you're supposed to return the things you steal,” John grumbled and James ignored him. After all, he was still missing some of his favorite books that John had apprehended.

James opened the wine and poured them each a glass before he collapsed into his normal chair at the dining room table. Over dinner, duck with a fancy French sauce that James wasn't even going to try to repeat, he told John about the mess the merger was turning into. Eventually they lapsed into silence over desert until John spoke again.

“Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we'd made it?” John asked, fingering his napkin as he watched James, who paused with his wineglass halfway to his lips, one eyebrow raised.

“I don't have to wonder,” he said with a chuckle. “I just have to pull up a picture of an atomic bomb and write our names on it.”

John laughed even as he threw his napkin at James' head. “Idiot,” he said fondly and James grinned.

“So how's Madi?” he asked and John rolled his eyes, knowing that his question had given away his worries about his relationship with his wife of six years.

“She's in Africa still, she extended her trip with Habitat for Humanity. Won't be back for another three weeks,” he said, glancing at his wedding ring.

“Getting blue balls?” James snickered and John narrowed his eyes.

“You offering something, James?” he asked and James bit his lip before bursting out laughing, soon joined by John. When the laughter died down they were both clutching their sides and leaning heavily on the table.

“Ten years ago I actually would have been,” James chuckled.

“Ten years ago I'd have taken you up on it,” John grinned, raising his glass in salute before draining it.

“I think I met someone,” James blurted out a moment later and John raised an eyebrow.

“You think?”

“I did...I just don't know if I met, or if I -met-,” he said quietly.

John set his glass down, waiting for his friend to elaborate.

“Well?” he said a moment later when James stayed silent.

“The coffee shop I usually go to, it was closed for refurbishment or something a few weeks ago, so I went somewhere else. The coffee is some of the best I've ever had, and it's right across from Teach's building so I kept going...” James sighed, running a hand through his hair and sparing a moment to note that he was in need of a haircut. “I had breakfast there this morning and there was a man there who...damnit,” James growled, pushing his chair away from the table and standing to pace around the room. “I sound like an adolescent girl,” he grumbled.

“James, this is me,” John said, tilting his head, his tone leaving no room for argument. He wanted to hear what James had to say and he wouldn't take no for an answer now.

“Do you remember the first time we saw each other?” James asked, calling up the memory of how their eyes had met across a university nightclub fifteen years before.

“I'm not sure I'll ever forget that,” John said quietly.

“Multiply it by ten,” James muttered and John's eyes widened as he whistled. “He...came over because he had noticed the book I was reading. I had that copy of The Odyssey you gave me, and we talked a little. I left the bloody book there because fucking Hornigold called me to the office that minute or the deal would go south.”

“Does this mystery man have a name?” John asked with a smirk and James sighed, feeling a bit like a teenager with a crush.

“Thomas,” he said softly. “Thomas Hamilton.”

\- : - : -

Thanks to a call he received the next morning, James was on the first flight to New York and only just had time to call the shop and tell Jack he would be gone for almost a week, and, once he found out that Thomas did indeed have his book, to please let him know when James would be back.

It was late evening six days later when he stumbled into the shop an hour before closing and spotted Thomas sitting in a far corner with his nose buried in The Odyssey.

“Good read?” James asked as he took the unoccupied chair and Thomas jumped.  

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't expect you for another day. I was going to give it back but I just started...I've never seen this translation before,” he said, holding the book out. James waved his hand and shook his head.

“It's fine, finish it. It is a little different than most out there, more subtle,” he said lightly. “May I?” he asked, indicating another book lying on the table at Thomas's elbow. Thomas nodded, pushing the copy of Meditations forward.

James sighed, flipping to the first page and beginning to read, letting the tension from the week long trip to hell seep out of his body as he read. He was already fully engrossed in the book by the time Charles brought him a cup of coffee and a pastry, rolling his eyes at James' barely muttered thanks.

When Jack closed up and kicked them out a little while later they made plans to meet the next morning and exchange books, since they would both easily be finished by then.

James returned to his flat, dropping his bag on the ground just inside the door and ignoring John half asleep on the couch, honestly, he'd deal with his friend's troubles in the morning, and finished Meditations, then read it a second time before he went to sleep, kept up until almost four by the jet lag.

“Don't you have your own flat?” he asked John the next morning when he found the dark haired man staring at the coffee machine as if he was wondering why it wasn't brewing itself.

“She extended her trip again,” John muttered, pushing a button here or there. Rolling his eyes James pushed him out of the way and put the coffee maker on properly. “Added an extra month.”

“So you get drunk and pass out on my couch the night I come back? You know I was meeting Thomas before I came home, how did you know I wouldn't bring him back here?” James grumbled and John managed a smirk.

“You don't move that fast,” he said with a smug look and James glared at him. It was both a dig at James' propensity for old fashioned romanticism and the fact that he and John had fallen into bed the first night they met.

“Go away,” he muttered, shooing John toward the shower to wash off the stench of alcohol and night club. “I'm going to the cafe,” he called as the other man disappeared. He resolutely ignored the snigger that floated through the flat at his words.

\- : - : -

“Hello.”

James looked up from the pages of his book and smiled. “Hello,” he said, nodding to the empty chair, though after three weeks of sitting together almost every day, there really was no need to grant permission anymore.

Thomas returned his smile, sitting down carefully and putting his cup of coffee on one of the coasters.

“What are you reading today?” he asked, bending his head to get a look at the title of James' book.

“Oh,” James muttered, suddenly embarrassed. Thomas had been away at a writers’ conference for a few days and James honestly hadn't expected him to come into the shop the same day he got back.

“Daphne du Maurier?” Thomas asked curiously. “Fan of mysteries?”

“It's something of a guilty pleasure,” James admitted with a chuckle. “An... old friend of mine, got me started with them when we were in college.”

“Have you ever read 'The Glasgow Trilogy?” Thomas asked, delight sparking in his eyes. “They're fascinating. As is the 'Millennium Trilogy'.”

“I think they're both on my list,” James nodded, thinking of the new list of books John had emailed him the week before. A new list showed up every few months, compiled over weeks when John spent his time doing nothing but reading and working. The lists tended to show up more often when Madi was out of town and John had even less to distract him from his obsession with books and food.

“You should come to the book club meeting on Thursday,” Thomas said and James raised an eyebrow.

“You think so?” he asked, reaching for his own coffee and frowning when he realized it had gone cold while he was reading. Thomas nodded, digging around in his bag for something, before pulling a copy of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' out and putting it on the table.

“I'm afraid we're on a bit of a classics kick,” he said, a hint of pink appearing on his cheeks. “Don Quixote is next, somehow we managed to pick two books in a row that are over a thousand pages.”

“I've read both of them,” James smiled, trying to ignore how his heart fluttered at the sight of Thomas blushing.

The bell over the door chimed and a woman entered, her heels clicking on the floor. Instead of heading for the counter instead she made a beeline for Charles.

“Well,” the blonde woman sniffed. “When the detective told me you were in London I didn't believe him,” she sneered. Charles straightened up from the table he was cleaning and glared at her.

The shop was almost empty so James had tracked her across the room, her blonde hair and smart suit standing out. Behind the counter Jack was watching nervously, fingers tapping on the counter. Anne had one hand on his arm, no doubt holding him back.

“Eleanor,” Charles said quietly, his voice laced with menace.

“Shit,” James muttered and Thomas looked up from his bag, eyebrows furrowing.

“What is it?” he asked, twisting around in his seat.

“Eleanor Guthrie. She's Charles' half sister. Same mother, different fathers. Teach adopted her when he briefly married Charles' mother. He's left her everything in his company,” James explained quietly.

James had seen Teach's will recently, as part of the company merger that stated a clear successor had to be named in the case of premature death so that the company wouldn't devolve into squabbling board members, and he knew that Charles was mentioned nowhere, and Eleanor stood to inherit everything that she didn't already own, which was a considerable amount.

“I take it they don't get along,” Thomas said quietly and James shook his head, catching Jack's eye as he stood.

“They never have,” James said, waving Thomas to stay at the table while he stood and walked over toward the two glaring at each other. Jack shook off Anne's hand and followed him.

“Is there a problem, Charles?” James asked as he reached them, eyes on Eleanor. She turned her sneer on him but he didn't flinch.

“We're fine,” Charles growled.

“Miss, if you'd like to order something, you can come to the counter,” Jack said much more politely than James would have thought he'd be able to. “If not, I must ask you not to bother my employees while they're working.”

Eleanor laughed an icy laugh as she turned back to Charles. “I only wanted to see how far my 'brother' has fallen,” she said before she turned on her heel and swished out of the cafe.

The room was tense until Charles picked up a tea cup and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces. Jack glanced at Anne, who shook her head. A few moments later Charles sighed and went into the back to retrieve a dustpan.

“That could have been worse,” Jack whispered as he and James retreated.

“It's going to get worse, believe me,” James said, headache suddenly pounding behind his eyes as he leaned on his table. “And we had almost closed the deal.”

“You'll get it sorted out,” Thomas said reassuringly, laying a hand on James' arm. James managed a smile for the other man and sighed, collapsing back into his chair.

“I appreciate the encouragement,” James muttered, rubbing his eyes. It was almost 7:30pm and if he knew anything about Edward Teach, he'd be getting a call in about half an hour demanding that he come in first thing the next morning. Saturday.

“Would you like to go for drinks sometime? When you have time, that is?” Thomas asked, shifting nervously. James smirked, suddenly in a better mood.

“Are you asking me on a date, Mr Hamilton?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Well...I mean...only if you'd like it to be...I'm sorry I'm not so good at this and-”

“Thomas,” James said, his hand covering Thomas' on top of the table. “I would love to,” he smiled and Thomas' eyes lit up.

They fell silent for a while, each going back to their book, James' hand remaining on top of Thomas', who eventually flipped his hand over and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. James smiled as he squeezed back, eyes never leaving his book. Then, because it was just that kind of night, the bell over the door rang and James' personal devil entered.

“So this is where you're hiding,” John's voice floated to him and James' head snapped up, his eyes moving quickly to Thomas, then back to John.

“What are you doing here?” James asked, forcing the words out of his suddenly tight throat as he drew his hand back at the same time as Thomas.

“You weren't answering your phone,” John shrugged as he stopped by the table and held his hand out to Thomas. “John Silver, nice to meet you,” he said, a broad grin on his face.

“Thomas Hamilton,” Thomas said politely, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. “Aren't you-”

“Yes, he's the head chef at the Benbow,” James muttered, irritated. “Don't let him start talking about cooking, you'll never hear the end of it.”

“I'm not that bad,” John chuckled, poking James in the side of the head while Thomas chuckled.

“Are you perhaps also the friend who sends the mystery list?” Thomas asked and John's grin widened, if that were possible.

“I can't resist a good mystery,” he nodded. “Especially with my wife out of town for the foreseeable future, I'm either cooking, or looking for a new mystery.”

“What happened?” James asked, sighing. “She was supposed to be back in two weeks, wasn't she?”

“I think she doesn't like me much anymore, she extended her trip again,” John muttered, a dark cloud passing over his face. James squinted at him.

“John, what did you do?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. It wasn't too out of the ordinary when Madi extended her trip once, not even twice, but a third time screamed trouble, adding a total of eight weeks to her time in Africa.

“I, er,” John said, rubbing the back of his head. “I may have mentioned that I wanted children?”

James sighed, pinching his nose as Thomas looked between them, confused.

“You're an idiot,” James informed his friend. “And we will talk about this later. Right now, bugger off.”

“So polite,” John said, sticking his tongue out like a child. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Thomas before he headed to the counter and ordered a coffee, quickly falling into an engaging conversation with Jack.

“He seems quite nice,” Thomas ventured, trying to hold in his laughter as James tugged on his hair in irritation.

“He's a menace and a pain in my arse,” James muttered, unwilling to elaborate.

“History?” Thomas chuckled and James sighed, nodding hesitantly.

“University,” he admitted after a minute.

“Ah,” Thomas said, a knowing smirk on his face. “I have one of those,” he said lightly. “Her name is Miranda. My father nearly insisted we got married after we graduated but I reminded him that it's the twenty-first century.”

“Trust me when I say, no one ever thought it would be a good idea if John and I got married,” James chuckled, suddenly more at ease with talking about his past. “We were...we're much better as friends, lets put it that way.”

“Friends are the best thing you can have in this world,” Thomas said knowingly and James gave into the urge to ball up his napkin and toss it at the other man with a laugh.

\- : - : -

They went to a quiet pub for dinner and drinks the next week, James laughing more in one evening then he thought he had in years, happy to be able to stare at Thomas as long as he wished without feeling like he was overstepping somehow. Somehow they manage to get on the topic of cricket verses rugby and were still arguing about it when it began to rain. Thomas' building was closer and James had offered to walk him home, so they broke in to a run, trying to reach the cover of the entry way to the building.

James was laughing as they ducked out of the rain, pulling Thomas with him so they were both under the awning. His laugher died as he realized how close they were standing and the fact that their hands hadn't parted but instead their fingers were intertwined and they were both holding on tightly.

“Hello,” Thomas whispered and James smiled.

“Hello,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving Thomas'.

He could feel Thomas' breath against his face, warm in the cold night air and he felt his heart skip a few beats as Thomas raised a hand to rest against his cheek. James let his eyes flutter shut briefly before he opened them again, taking in Thomas' face, watching the drops of water slide down his skin in the dim light. Thomas was a little taller than he was, but right now that was the last thing that mattered to James, who wasn't used to being the shorter person. What mattered now was that James felt like if Thomas didn't kiss him, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

As if reading his mind, Thomas smirked and leaned forward, brushing their mouths together gently as their eyes fell shut and James sighed, swaying closer as his arm came up to wrap around Thomas' waist. The fingers of his other hand tightened around Thomas' and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss as the space between them vanished. Thomas pulled back a little and smiled softly, his face suddenly shy.

“Would you...like to come up?” he asked quietly and James sucked in a breath before he nodded, leaning forward to capture Thomas' mouth again, thanking the typical London weather for raining on them and making his night a hundred times better than it already was.

\- : - : -

“What's going on?” James asked Abigail as voices carried through the door. They were different than he was used to and he recognized Charles' deep voice along with Teach's.

“Mr Vane got here about an hour ago. They've been fighting ever since,” Abigail frowned.

“About what?” James asked and Abigail glanced around before leaning closer.

“She's been sleeping with Mr Rogers, planning with him to get hold of her father's company and leaving him with nothing,” she whispered.

James's eyebrows rose so high they were in danger of disappearing into his copper hair and he glanced back at the door just as it slammed open and Charles stormed out.

“The merger is off,” he growled and James watched him stalk away before he entered the office cautiously.

“I'm revising my will,” Teach said without preamble. “Everything goes to Charles. My daughter gets nothing. And the merger with the Rogers Shipping Company will not be happing. I plan to reveal his criminal activity to the authorities and then buy all his stock when it's at it's lowest.”

“Then I suppose my services are no longer needed,” James said, feeling almost like he was floating. The last three months really had been horrible and the prospect of never having to set foot in the building was as intoxicating as a good scotch.

“I'm sorry you went through all this for nothing. I'll be adding a large bonus to your payment for your hard work,” Teach said, typing rapidly on his computer.

“Thank you,” James said, trying to remain professional. “I'll send you my bill within the week.”

Teach nodded and James backed out of the office, eyes wide as he exchanged a grin with Abigail.

“Well,” he said, “As lovely as this has been, please don't take it the wrong way when I say I sincerely hope I never see you again.”

Abigail laughed and shooed him to the elevator, knowing how much he hated being inside the Teach Enterprises building.

Outside James paused to take a deep breath and sighed, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. He was never taking a job like this again, and with the amount he charged and whatever bonus Teach was giving him, he was taking the next two months off before he even started looking for another contract.

With that in mind he turned and headed for the _Colonial Dawn,_ pulling his tie off as he went. Pushing the door open he spotted Thomas and John in the back corner at the usual table, arguing over an open copy of something. They both glanced up when he sank into the seat and grinned when he explained what had happened.

“Brilliant, I was worried you'd be too busy,” John said cryptically and James raised an eyebrow at him.

“Too busy for what, exactly?” he asked and Thomas shuffled in his chair.

“I asked John if he could get us reservations at the Benbow,” he admitted and James' eyes snapped to John who just grinned.

“Cheeky shit,” he mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket and quickly tapping a few things into the search engine.

“Well, he's never had my cooking, so I thought, what better way to introduce the man to fine cuisine than at my restaurant?”

“John, those dishes run at a hundred pounds a plate, why do you think only the elite of British Society eat there?” James mumbled, most of his attention on his search.

“You have no excuse now,” John grinned. “You have to go. He refuses to set foot in my restaurant,” he explained, turning to Thomas.

“Why should I dress up like a penguin to sit in a corner by myself when you break into my flat at least once a month to cook for me?” James muttered and Thomas chuckled behind his hand.

“Which is why now you have to go, you won't be alone,” John said smugly.

“When?” James asked, tapping the calendar on the page he was looking at.

“Friday,” Thomas supplied, leaning over trying to get a look at his phone.

“What are you doing for the next two weeks?” James asked, looking up at Thomas as he held the phone out of sight. Thomas frowned at him.

“Well, I expect the same as I always do, sit in a coffee shop and argue with you about books,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned back, a smirk on his face.

“How about a Caribbean cruise?” James asked. John's jaw dropped, his eyes moving back and forth between the other two, swearing he could feel the tension crackle between them as they stared at each other. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing out loud joyfully when Thomas leaned forward and dragged James into a messy kiss, both of them grinning widely.

“I'll take that as a yes,” James whispered.

“I'll take that as my cue to bugger off,” John grinned as he clapped Thomas on the shoulder and rose, hightailing it out of the cafe.

“Has he always been that odd?” Thomas asked with a chuckle. James shrugged.

“He's always felt bad that he married Madi and I've been alone ever since. He's just happy, in his odd and gleeful way,” he said, hand reaching up to curl around the back of Thomas' neck and pull him into another kiss.

“You're not alone anymore,” Thomas said, his words heavy. James smiled softly, gazing into the other man’s eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, I'm not.”

_Four Years Later_

“They're absolutely disgusting, aren't they?” John said, a smile belying his annoyance as he watched James and Thomas whispering to each other in a far corner of the room. In his arms Isabelle giggled and tugged on his beard and he was distracted, prying his daughter’s fingers from his facial hair.

“I think it's sweet,” Madi said quietly at his elbow and John chuckled.

“You wouldn't think it was so sweet if you could hear what they're talking about,” he assured her with a wink, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Honestly,” James was saying across the room, “Are you ever going to drop it with the oar and the shovel thing?” he asked. Thomas just chuckled.

“But it irritates you every time I bring it up, why would I stop?”

“Why would you continue?” James asked, incredulous. He nearly leaned back when Thomas smirked and leaned close to his ear.

“Do you know how much I love it when you're irritated?” he whispered and the timber of his voice sent a shiver through James.

“This is about sex, isn't it?” he asked in a deadpan and Thomas chuckled, resting his forehead on James' shoulder as he laughed.

“I can't help that it makes me want to do filthy things to you when you're irritated,” Thomas breathed in James' ear when he reigned in his laughter. James shivered and glanced around the room.

“I think we've stayed long enough,” he said, wrapping his hand around Thomas', who grinned and nodded.

They grabbed their coats quickly and almost made it out without being spotted, John's voice carrying a lewd comment after them as they descended the stairs.

“One day, I will kill him,” James swore as they ducked into a taxi, causing Thomas to laugh again.

“I love you,” he said, his whole face glowing as he gazed at James, who turned his head in surprise to look at Thomas. After a moment his face softened and he leaned forward to press their heads together.

“And I love you,” he said quietly.

  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I meant to write in Max and Gates but I never quite got to it. Max runs the book club at the coffee shop and Gates works at the Benbow as a pastry chef. Please don't ask why.
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day! 
> 
> I’m on Tumblr [Beneath The Black Sails](http://www.beneaththeblacksails.tumblr.com)


End file.
